


The Tol Eressëan Tales: Corsleted Cupid

by Ghyste



Series: The Tol Eressëan Tales [1]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Complete, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 02:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/645594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghyste/pseuds/Ghyste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Tol Eressëa, Gimli tries his hand at a spot of matchmaking</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tol Eressëan Tales: Corsleted Cupid

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 of the Tol Eressëan Tales, an occasional series of AU humour fics set, somewhat unsurprisingly, on Tol Eressëa sometime during the early centuries of the Fourth Age.

It had been some time now since Legolas and Gimli had arrived on Tol Eressëa. Though Gimli had been concerned that the other inhabitants might have found their fast friendship strange, Legolas had been adamant that he would not be parted from one whom he loved as a brother and the unlikely pair had set up home together.

However, although Legolas found it easy to slip into the endless now that was the Blessed Realm, he sensed that Gimli was having a more difficult time. Son of Aulë though he might have been, the dwarf was also a child of the rocks and stones that weathered and changed as the seasons rolled by. Legolas had tried to interest the former Lord of the Glittering Caves in those things that had enriched his days in Middle Earth, but Gimli had looked upon the great works that the Noldor had wrought since the days of their return and declared that there was nothing that could be done to add to their perfection.

Gimli seemed to take comfort in his visits to Frodo and Sam, who had had to go through their own period of acclimatisation, and Legolas encouraged him to spend time with them. Of late, however, Legolas had noticed an uncharacteristic air of introspection about his friend when he returned. At length, Gimli decided to speak about his thoughts and Legolas discovered, to his surprise, that they were far removed from anything that he had suspected. 

“It’s Sam,” Gimli blurted out over dinner one evening.

“What about Sam?” queried Legolas.

“I think he loves Frodo.”

Legolas contented himself with merely raising an eyebrow – after all, it was patently obvious to anyone who had ever met them that Sam loved Frodo and vice versa.

“No, no, not like that. Well yes, like that, but I have come to believe that Sam is also *in love* with Frodo.”

Legolas considered the matter and found it not at all unlikely, Frodo being fairly high on the scale of attractiveness…if not quite up to his own elven standards. 

“What about Frodo?” he asked. “Is he *in love* with Sam”?

"Oh, I don't suppose he's even thought about it. You know Frodo, too busy fretting about you-know-what to see that something right under his nose could take his mind off it permanently."

“I don’t understand why Sam doesn’t just say something. After all, they’ve known each other for years.” mused Legolas.

Gimli pondered for a moment. …. “I don’t know why either, but I certainly intend to find out – and to do something about it.” After all, true love was at stake and tomorrow Gimli was determined to be on the case.

Legolas was delighted to see how his friend had found something to be enthusiastic about again. However, he was less surprised than most that the subject was love. Although, as a rule, elves considered the dwarves to lack sensitivity, Legolas knew full well that beneath Gimli’s breast there beat the heart of a true romantic. One only had to see him when he spoke of Galadriel to know it. With this in mind he warmly encouraged his friend when he expressed a desire to help the pair find true happiness and pledged his moral, if not practical, support in the venture. 

“You should speak to Sam again,” he suggested. 

Gimli felt that he needed a plausible excuse for getting Sam alone. They agreed that gardening would be a good subject, because Eru knew that if it was possible for someone to have the opposite of green fingers then it was Frodo. But, as Legolas pointed out, Gimli was hardly well known for horticultural prowess and he had his own elf at home should he need advice on the subject.

Suddenly Gimli had a brainwave. “Legolas…hops!” he exclaimed. Legolas was momentarily confused because he plainly didn’t, and then realised that Gimli was talking about the crop rather than the motion. He had to admit that this was rather a good idea - being primarily wine drinkers the elves had little experience of the growing of hops or the brewing of beer so he could not be of any help. More to the point, given that Gimli was renown for the length at which he could complain about the lack of a good brew in this otherwise perfect locale, Sam should not be at all surprised if he was approached for information on the subject.

Gimli did indeed have more than a little self-interest in this particular ploy. He knew full well of the hobbits’ ability to turn out a fine ale and during his sojourn in Aglarond had made sure that the supply lines to Rohan set up by Saruman had been maintained, albeit on a rather more commercial basis. Many a hobbit maid had received a betrothal gift of fine dwarven craftsmanship as the result of this profitable exchange. As far as Legolas was concerned, whilst he might not have anywhere near his father’s taste for wine, he did enjoy the odd libation and Gimli had never given up trying to convert him to what he considered to be the only drink for a real man…dwarf…whatever…

Accordingly, the very next morning Gimli took himself over to Sam and Frodo’s to discuss the finer points of growing hops and, hopefully, other more intimate matters. Legolas was waiting with very nearly bated breath when he returned many hours later. Sadly whatever revelations might have been forthcoming were delayed since Gimli returned with an enthusiastic Sam in tow and the pair of them spent the rest of the day grubbing around in the dirt. In the end Legolas had to corner Gimli in the bath, in order to find out what had happened. 

“Well?” he asked, so interested that he failed to notice that Gimli had been raiding his toiletries yet again.

“Well what?” responded Gimli from beneath a veritable mountain of vanilla scented bubbles.

“Yes or no?”

“Oh, definitely yes,” chortled Gimli from the perfumed depths. “Sam says that gentle south facing slope two hills back is absolutely perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” asked Legolas, carefully suppressing thoughts of Sam and Frodo frolicking naked in such close proximity to their home. It was all right for Gimli - whilst he might claim that he had eyes of a hawk and the hearing of a fox, the truth of the matter was that his faculties didn't begin to compare to Legolas' elven hearing and eyesight.

“Hops, of course,” replied Gimli, “it’s deep-drained non-acid loam, Sam reckons that we should have a bumper crop in two to three years if we plant this Spring.” 

“Not about the hops,” said Legolas through his gritted, though absolutely perfect, teeth, “about Frodo. Is Sam in love with him or not?”

“Oh, we never actually got round to talking about that,” admitted Gimli, “hops, you know…” Sensing that Legolas was about to leap into the bath and throttle him he continued hastily, “but I’m sure he is.” He waved his soapy hands in the air in vaguely mystical patterns. “A dwarf knows these things. By the way, could you pass me the loofa?”

Legolas knew when he was beaten…

Dwarves are practical and methodical creatures so, having failed in his direct assault, Gimli decided that a little research was in order before he began the next stage in his campaign. He announced at breakfast the next morning that he was planning to call in on Bilbo. After all, as he told Legolas, Bilbo knew the two principals in this matter better than anyone on Tol Eressëa and would be a useful source of information about the courtship and mating habits of Hobbits.

Legolas undoubtedly considered Frodo and Sam's love to be A Good Thing in theory. However, he had been sufficiently distressed by the eating habits of Hobbits that he resolved to fall back on the old elven trick of sleeping with his eyes open when Gimli told him about the gory details of their sex lives. Sleeping with one’s eyes open came with its own risks attached, of course. Look at poor old Elwë - took an extended nap in the forest and woke up to find that not only had all his family moved abroad, but he'd got himself married to boot. However, in this case he figured that it was probably worth it.

It was with some trepidation, therefore, that Legolas returned home that evening. Gimli was not to be found in the kitchen or parlour, but the sound of scribbling and the rustling of papers emanated from the study. Legolas opened the door and peered in, to see Gimli surrounded by massive tomes and writing furiously on a long piece of paper. He glanced up as Legolas entered the room.

"So, how did it go with Bilbo?"

"Fascinating, absolutely fascinating!" said Gimli in rapt tones. "All that information, all those details. I would never have expected it of him - though I should have done from the tales my dad told me about his trip with the old boy!"

Had he not possessed the elven gift of a perfect complexion, Legolas would have turned a sickly green at that response. Dwelling upon the minutiae of Sam and Frodo's love life was quite bad enough, without having to contemplate Bilbo's proclivities.

"So…Bilbo told you a lot about, ah…you know…?"

"What? Oh no, we never got on to that. I started asking him about his family, just to warm him up to the subject, and we ended up having this utterly fascinating chat about genealogy. I've decided to do my family tree. Look, I did yours first as a bit of practice."

He waved an extremely small piece of paper in Legolas' direction. Legolas took it and thanked him gravely before beating a hasty retreat.

Several weeks later, having exhausted all the entertainment that genealogy had to offer to one surrounded by immortals, Gimli decided to turn his mind once more to the matter of Sam and Frodo's unrequited sexual tension. This time round he decided to have a word with Gandalf who had, after all, been a friend of Frodo's for many years and, barring an actual Hobbit, was probably the closest thing he could find to an expert. Happily he also had the perfect excuse for a casual visit. It was nearly Legolas' birthday and Gimli was thinking of throwing a bit of a party. It was a habit he had fallen into back in Middle-earth when he had discovered, to his horror, that elves had no tradition for marking the date of their birth - instead choosing to celebrate the date their conception. Legolas had tried in vain to explain that what they called it was irrelevant given that they fell upon pretty much the same day of the year, but Gimli was adamant that it was Legolas’ birthday that would be celebrated in their household. Knowing better than to argue with Gimli once his mind was made up, Legolas had given in with good grace and, after the first few decades at least, almost seemed to enjoy the occasion. A few fireworks would round off the evening splendidly and once he was firmly ensconced in Gandalf's home he could continue with his research.

Thus it was that Legolas arrived back that evening to the sound of loud explosions. It wasn't too difficult for him to track down a sooty and begrimed Gimli outside the kitchen door.

"Been visiting Gandalf?" he enquired.

"Yes," mumbled Gimli around the large stick he was holding between his teeth. "I thought I'd find out what he knew about Hobbit mating rituals."

"They blow each other up?"

"What? Oh this," he gesticulated to the pile of black powder and tubes on the table in front of him. "No, we got chatting about fireworks and I thought I might try making some for your birthday party. Gandalf gave me lots of stuff to try out."

With that Gimli started vigorously tamping the powder with his stick. Unfortunately it appeared that this particular mixture did not appreciate the treatment it was receiving, which resulted in an explosion large enough to knock Gimli off his feet and very nearly dishevel Legolas’ hair. Discretion being the better part of valour, Legolas retreated to the relative safety of the kitchen, wishing that Gimli wouldn’t insist that he had birthdays.

Somehow or other the house and Legolas' sanity managed to survive Gimli's fireworks obsession. Indeed, Gimli was able to put on a rather nice show at the party which they watched while drinking the wine that was all there was to be had until Gimli and Sam’s little venture had come to fruition. The display might not have been up to Gandalf's usual standards, being rather more focused on the violence of the explosion than the beauty, but Legolas was touched nonetheless. 

Legolas had tried to take the opportunity to observe Sam and Frodo at the party but curiously, although he knew they were there somewhere, he kept losing them in the undergrowth. Of course, he had rather more on his mind than Sam and Frodo's elusiveness for he had noticed a pattern forming and now had to worry about where Gimli's quest would lead next.

When Gimli proclaimed that his next target was Elrond, Legolas came as near to terror as was possible for an elf of his advanced yet undefined years when not confronted by a Balrog. However, when he suggested that Elrond might be too busy to be bothered about so trivial a matter, Gimli responded that the only thing Elrond was busy with was making up for five hundred and eleven years of enforced celibacy and that in itself should lend him a useful perspective on the matter. He also pointed out that that, even if Elrond was annoyed at the interruption, the Lady Celebrían might find it something of a relief. Legolas was forced to agree that Celebrían had been looking a little peaky of late. He supposed that an unnecessarily energetic sex life was one of the downsides of marrying someone who was half-human. Living in close proximity to Faramir and Éowyn had been an education in that respect, particularly the time he had come across them playing Eöl and Aredhel in the forests of Ithilien.

When Legolas next saw his friend he thought that his worst fears had been more than confirmed, since Gimli was bedecked with bandages and carrying a large sack full of First Aid supplies. It turned out, however, that Gimli had used the excuse of his firework inflicted injuries to worm his way into Elrond's company and had as usual been distracted from his quest. Legolas' pleasure at Gimli becoming addicted to something less destructive this time round was tempered by the fact that Gimli insisted on practising his new skills upon him. The bandaging wasn't too bad, and some of the poultices were positively enjoyable, but he drew the line at being dosed with various evil-smelling potions that Gimli whipped up in his spare moments. 

Sadly, once the fun of playing Doctors and Nurses (in the most literal of senses) had worn off, Gimli became despondent about ever succeeding at matchmaking. He had read every book about the great elven romances that he had at his disposal, not that they were very encouraging what with all the horrible deaths, and he had questioned everyone who knew anything about hobbits to no avail. Finally Legolas suggested that he simply go and speak to Sam again.

"After all, it can't do any harm."

Alas, it seemed that fate had resolved to punish Legolas for his presumption, for later that night Frodo found that a conversation held earlier in the day was distracting Sam from the pleasures of their shared bed. Frodo eventually resigned himself to listening to whatever was on his mind, though it did not prevent him from continuing to nibble on Sam's ear. 

"It's Gimli. He came round again this afternoon and kept talking about unrequited love and how no-one should be discouraged just because they thought they weren't good enough."

Frodo paused from his leisurely exploration of Sam's neck to suggest that maybe Gimli was talking about Galadriel.

"That's what I thought,” replied Sam, his breathing a little faster than it had been earlier, "but when I suggested it he got all pink and evasive. I think he's in love with Legolas and wants some help."

Frodo’s lips briefly parted company with Sam’s collarbone as he mused, “I don’t understand why Gimli doesn't just say something. After all, they’ve known each other for years.”

Sam pondered for a moment. …. “I don’t know why either, but I certainly intend to find out – and to do something about it.”

"So," said Frodo, his tongue circling Sam's left nipple, "What are you going to do?"

"I thought maybe I'd go round there and have a chat. I've been meaning to make a marrow bed and I can go and ask him about the proper kind of stone as a bit of an excuse to get him alone."

"Mmmm…” murmured Frodo happily, his words muffled by Sam's belly, " …I like marrows…"

As Frodo's mouth continued on its inexorable path downward and began to prove the accuracy of his statement, Sam decided that Gimli's sex life could take second place to his own for the moment…but true love was at stake and tomorrow Sam Gamgee was determined to be on the case.


End file.
